


I Wanted To Know

by Sorin



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Anal Sex, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-22
Updated: 2013-10-22
Packaged: 2017-12-30 04:21:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1014030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sorin/pseuds/Sorin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Legend has it that a small statue exists, though what it does is something Koltira Deathweaver aims to find out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Wanted To Know

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own World of Warcraft or these characters, I'm simply borrowing them for a time for this fanwork.

If Koltira needed to draw breath, it would be misting in the chill air.  Sometimes he did, mostly out of habit, and sometimes he didn’t bother- which, if he were honest, scared him a bit.  He shifted his weight, armor heavy on his body, and watched the small house intently.  Byfrost sang to him of blood and destruction, as it always did, and tonight he meant to quench its thirst.  He hefted the two-handed greatsword as if it weighed nothing, eyes burning an unholy blue.  As soon as the lights went out, he advanced, though he hardly needed to have waited.  He knew he looked like something out of a nightmare... tall, gray skin, pale hair, armored and armed to the teeth.  A cold smile curved his lips as he stood in front of the door, then kicked it open.

When he was finished, the room was liberally splattered with blood, and Byfrost was- momentarily- satisfied.  Koltira’s own bloodlust was as well, thus linked with Byfrost’s, and he wiped the blade clean before sheathing it on his back and walking toward a glowing object on the table.  It seemed to be a small statue, fitting easily in the palm of his gauntleted hand, and he stared at it before pocketing it and turning to leave.  The undead who’d called this place home were no more, and Koltira was satisfied that he had what he needed.

“Finished already?” a quiet voice asked as he stepped out of the house.  Koltira didn’t turn, merely stared straight ahead and spoke into the darkness.

“It was easy enough.”  Finally he did glance over, barely making out his companion in the dim light.  Glowing blue eyes, much like his own, but the figure was taller, broader across the shoulders.  He scowled, then, turning to face him.  “Why did you follow me?”

The figure stepped closer, twin runeblades sitting easily at his hips.  “I was curious.  You’ve known about this house for ages, and only now you come for what you wanted?”  He shrugged, and Koltira could finally make out the planes of his face, the soft white hair that fell across his brow and to his shoulders, the scruff of beard on his chin and up the sides of his face.  “I suppose I wonder why you bothered.”

“Keep wondering,” Koltira replied shortly, his prize now hiding in a pouch tucked into his breastplate.  “You’ll be discovered if you stay.”

Thassarian snorted.  “If I were worried about that, I wouldn’t be here.  Andorhol is silent, and the patrols don’t roam this far.  I knew you’d be here tonight... and for all you knew, since you waited so long, the statue may have been gone.”

Koltira scowled at him.  “It was only a rumor, and so far all we’ve discovered is that a statue exists- not that it does anything special.”  He wondered if it would feel warm against his skin, through the leather of the pouch.  No longer did he feel such things, only cold... endless cold, endless longing for what he’d had.

“You still hate me for it, don’t you,” Thassarian said quietly, not making any moves forward nor backward.  “Part of you does, at the very least.”

“It’s a misguided emotion,” Koltira replied, waving away the concern as though it meant nothing.  “You know me well enough to know that any hatred I felt toward you is now mixed with something _else._ ”  He didn’t call it love, neither of them did.  It could have been, were they alive, Koltira reasoned... but as they weren’t, as they could never know what it would have been like, he contented himself with simply accepting it and not naming it.  There was no reason to, after all.

Thassarian watched him for a long moment, then stepped back, seeming to melt into the shadows.  “I hope it gives you the answers you seek,” he said softly, his voice seeming to come to Koltira on the chill wind... and then he was gone, and Koltira was alone, staring up at the moonless sky and cursing himself.

An hour later found Koltira dismounting his steed far from Andorhol, far from everything.  He’d found a grove of trees that gave some shelter, at least enough that he was satisfied no harm would come to him.  He hadn’t slept since he’d been alive, at least not that he could remember.  The night was always long, sometimes a friend, sometimes a bitter enemy.  Though his body needed no rest, his mind still required it on occasion, and thus he learned how to meditate and clear his thoughts.  They often roiled, thanks in no small part to Byfrost’s constant urging, demanding, wanting more of Koltira than he sometimes thought he could give.  Sated for the moment- _satisfied_ may have been the more appropriate term, he couldn’t ever remember a time when the runeblade was truly sated- Koltira undid the leather bindings around his chest and sat Byfrost down next to him as he sat with his back against a huge tree.

Slowly, he drew the pouch out of his breastplate and shook the statue out into his hand.  It was made of some sort of stone, he thought, and paused to take his gauntlets off to touch it directly.  That didn’t make much difference in figuring out what it was; his dead flesh felt nothing of consequence, and he stifled a sigh.  He didn’t really know why he’d bothered, except that perhaps it had to touch him directly to work.  He held it up and examined it by the dim moonlight, but that didn’t do him much good either- it was simply a small statue of a cat, tail wrapped around its legs as it sat and stared at him with glass-green eyes.  “Well, let’s see what you’re about, then,” Koltira murmured to it, feeling a bit ridiculous that he was talking to a _statue_ , of all things- but he held it in his hands and closed his eyes, centering himself and letting his mind become still and clear.

Nothing seemed to happen for a long while, and then Koltira felt something tugging at the edges of his thoughts.  He frowned a little but didn’t move otherwise, and the tugging increased.  It grew to a roaring crescendo and his eyes flew open, drawing in a gasp that did nothing for him.  _By the sun-!_   Everything around him blurred, then went dark before he could throw the statue away from himself.

Slowly, slowly he became aware again, but things seemed very different now.  He realized then that his chest was burning and he gasped again, realizing that he needed air- truly needed it, had to have it, else he would suffocate.  Blue eyes flew open and widened as he took in his surroundings.  He was still in the same clearing, it seemed, but it was no longer dead and desiccated.  The grass was green, the trees tall and healthy, leaves blowing in a gentle breeze that he felt along every nerve.  Gone was his armor, and Byfrost as well, leaving him clad in a simple shirt and trousers.  Koltira stood slowly and lifted a hand to his chest, felt his heart beating beneath flesh and bone... and he could have wept, then and there.

_So that’s what it does,_ the high elf thought dimly, looking around the clearing with his hand still pressed to his heart.  _It gives you what you desire the most..._

“Yes,” a soft voice- a _familiar_ voice- said from behind him.  “Koltira...”

Koltira spun around and faced Thassarian, who was torn between a smile and a smirk, leaning against another tree with his arms crossed.  He was similarly clad, and similarly _alive_.  “What’s this?” he asked suspiciously, fingers twitching as he realized his sword was long gone... and feeling an ache in his chest that he thought he might have needed it at all.

Thassarian dropped his arms and strode over to him, movements sure and powerful.  He was very handsome for a human, Koltira supposed, if not a bit overly-muscled for his refined tastes... and he looked different in life than he had in death.  Gone were the marks on his face, gone the white hair- now honey-gold, much like Koltira’s own.  Gray skin was now tan, his pale face flushed a bit with blood as he stopped in front of the high elf and lifted his hands to cup his face.  “What do you want it to be?” he asked softly, lips now inches from Koltira’s.  “You’re here for a reason, Koltira... as am I.”

Koltira struggled, but only briefly, and only because his pride demanded it.  Thassarian was right, damn him... escape was the last thing on his mind.  He gave in as he drank in the warmth of Thassarian’s hands, stepped closer to close the gap between them and tipped his head back.  No longer cold, no longer bitter, Koltira gave in willingly as Thassarian’s lips brushed his, as his tongue parted his lips.  He had to stifle a moan, then- it felt so good, so indescribably good, and Thassarian tasted like mint and chocolate.  He only dimly wondered why that was; he figured if the statue was granting him a fantasy, he may as well lay back and enjoy it.

“How does it feel?” Thassarian asked softly, drawing back just enough to open his eyes- still blue, but no longer glowing.  “It’s been so long since I last saw you like this.”

A small surge of anger broke over him, then, but it was gone as soon as it came as Koltira decided to take the words as a compliment.  “Different,” he finally said softly.  “Like something I’m only barely able to remember, like... something I willed myself to forget.”

Thassarian smiled, thumb lightly stroking the high elf’s cheekbone.  “So did we all,” he said softly.  “It’s all right.  Your heart is pounding...”

“Yes,” Koltira replied, his voice soft and his expression one of wonder.  Blood surged through his veins, filling him with warmth, with longing.  This kind of longing, though, could be satisfied... _would_ be satisfied.  He pressed closer still to Thassarian, aching in earnest now, and the human laughed softly at him.

“So willing, now,” he murmured, kissing Koltira again before gently drawing him down to the soft grass.  “It was never this easy with you before, you know.”  Amusement danced in Thassarian’s eyes, and Koltira couldn’t resist the urge to reach up and touch his face, fingertips delicately exploring.

“I don’t want to think about that,” Koltira replied absently, contenting himself greatly with the _here_ and _now_ as opposed to cold nights stolen in frozen halls, touching but unable to feel, reaching but unable to hold.  His fingers slid up into Thassarian’s hair and he marveled yet again how warm he felt, how very alive.  That honey-gold hair was just as soft as it looked and his eyes fell half-closed, sighing in pleasure at how it slid through his fingers like sun-warmed silk.

Thassarian smiled and tipped his head into the touch.  “Fair enough.  I don’t either.”  He pushed Koltira the rest of the way down, covering that slender body with his own, kissing him deeply.  Koltira was more than pleased with that, arms lifting and twining around the human who so adored him, or at least seemed to- maybe he could trick himself into believing it, for the moment.  “Mm.  You taste like strawberries,” Thassarian murmured, and Koltira wondered how that was possible- then quit caring when Thassarian kissed him again, stealing his breath effortlessly.

Koltira felt lost in a sea of sensation, all these things he hadn’t felt when he was alive, things he’d desperately longed for in the years after.  Thassarian’s body felt good pressing his into the grass, and he could feel the human’s heart beating fast against his own.  Arousal wasn’t a new sensation for him, but it was one he’d nearly forgotten, and he welcomed it back even as he pulled Thassarian closer, lifting his legs and settling him on his hips.  He tipped his head back as Thassarian shifted a little, kissing down his jaw to his neck, hovering over his pulse point and placing a hot, open-mouthed kiss there that earned him a soft exhalation, an even softer moan.

Thassarian wasted no time sitting back to unbutton Koltira’s shirt, pushing it open and then off as the high elf pushed himself up a bit to allow it.  He fell back as Thassarian moved over him again, kissing down his neck to his collarbone, tasting his skin and smiling against it as he went.  “Koltira,” he whispered.  “I dreamed of this too... wanted it for so long.  I wondered why you waited to go get that damn statue.”

“I didn’t know,” Koltira replied, his voice breathless as his hands tangled again in Thassarian’s hair.  The human- his lover- moved further downward, shifting to swirl his tongue around a stiffened nipple before closing his mouth over it, drawing a louder sound this time.  He hadn’t known, true, but he’d thought... wondered... feared, even.  Part of him hadn’t wanted to know at all, and the rest of him eventually told that part to find a hole and bury itself in it.  “I wanted to.  May the sun forgive me... I wanted to know.”  Thassarian, who’d killed him, who’d caused him to be raised... whom he hated, whom he admired, for whom he would die the true death without a second thought.

“You don’t need forgiveness,” Thassarian murmured, lips ghosting against his skin as he shifted to give the other nipple the same attention.  Koltira did cry out that time, unable to hold back anymore, unwilling to even try.  He didn’t care that Thassarian was lying to him, was lying to himself- or maybe they didn’t need forgiveness, as it was something far beyond their reach anyway.  The things they’d both done far surpassed that, he figured.  “Right now, all you need is this...”  A warm hand skimmed down his side, fingers trailed over his hipbone.

Koltira’s breath hitched and he arched up, wanting, _needing_.  Somehow this was all familiar and yet not, the sensations known but the person he was with a mystery to him.  He ached to touch, but more urgently to be touched, and Thassarian seemed to understand that.  That hand moved further inward, brushing over his belly, then down further to the erection that strained inside his trousers.  Another cry was wrung from him then, feeling simultaneously like he was falling through the ground and flying through the air.  He let it go on for a long moment before he pushed Thassarian off of him, down onto his back.  It had been enough for the moment, and Koltira knew if he let it go on he’d finish far too soon.

It was easy to explore him, the play of silky skin over hard muscle, and Koltira took his sweet time in doing so.  Thassarian urged him on with the same quiet sounds, hands sweeping through his long hair, once again thick and luxurious.  This was what he craved, truly, being touched this way as he gave the kind of pleasure his own body sang for.  He kissed lower than Thassarian had, dipping his tongue into his navel and smiling when Thassarian laughed breathlessly.  “Ticklish, I see,” he murmured, saving that tidbit for later.  He moved lower still, hair caressing the skin of the human’s stomach as he pressed a soft kiss right above his trousers, right above the erection begging for his attention.  He granted it after a moment, drawing back and pressing his palm firmly down, feeling wonderful heat and smiling again as Thassarian pushed his hips up into the touch.

“Tease,” Thassarian growled, sitting up and capturing his lips again.  Koltira melted into the kiss, not even trying to put up a front of resistance, feeling like he was drowning and Thassarian was the air.  He may as well have been, for all Koltira’s existence had been centered on him all these years, but the high elf couldn’t bring himself to care or admonish himself for that weakness.  There was no one else he could even consider being like this with, no one else he could allow inside... certainly no one else who could touch him as Thassarian had.  He was dimly aware of deft fingers unlacing his breeches, pushing them down over slim hips, sliding his hands down muscled thighs and calves before taking them off entirely.  Koltira knew, abstractly, that he had a good body- he’d been a soldier in life, and a soldier in death.  It amazed him that Thassarian appreciated it, somehow, trailing kisses down one thigh before moving back up to kiss his mouth again.

Koltira decided to return the favor, though his hands trembled a bit as he unlaced Thassarian’s trousers.  That surprised him all over again, as did the sudden rush of anxiety that followed.  He was _nervous._   He looked up at Thassarian’s face, eyes wide, and the smile he got in return soothed him and spurred him to continue.  He’d had other men in life, though they were all elves, and none quite so well-built as the human beneath him.  This was no mere peasant who’d been caught unaware, no untrained young man cut down without resistance.  Thassarian was strong, perhaps stronger than Koltira himself, certainly larger.  Where Koltira was slender, athletic, Thassarian was supple and muscular.  He found he liked the difference very much, and when he leaned up again and pressed their naked bodies together, it was a rush like none other.

Gentle hands ran down his back and over the curve of his rear, then back up as Thassarian rolled him onto his back in the soft grass.  Koltira looked up at him, feeling steadier now, and ran his hands down his chest to his hips.  He wanted to experience everything, and so before Thassarian could move away, he slid his hands inward and wrapped one around his length.  It felt fever-hot and heavy in his hand, and Thassarian exhaled at the touch and moaned when Koltira started to stroke him.  He rubbed his thumb over the tip and earned a shudder, moved faster and earned a thrust forward in return.  Thassarian allowed it to continue for a blessedly long moment before he moved back, reaching up and gently placing two fingers against Koltira’s lips.

Being no fool, Koltira immediately took them into his mouth, taking care to coat them well... and to tease a bit in the process.  He swirled his tongue around them, sucked softly and lifted one hand to Thassarian’s wrist.  He felt his lover shiver a little in anticipation, maybe in longing to have that hot mouth elsewhere, but there was a more pressing need to attend to.  After a moment, he drew his hand away and slipped it between Koltira’s legs, fingers seeking and then gently pushing.  Koltira gasped sharply and his hands flew to Thassarian’s shoulders as he leaned over him to give his erection the same attention his fingers had previously received.  This was enough to distract him entirely from the pain, and anyway, Koltira was no stranger to pain and thus would likely have allowed Thassarian to just take him as he was.  Thassarian was concerned more with pleasure, though, and it showed in the way that clever tongue danced over his willing flesh.

It felt like heartbeats later, though it had to be longer, when Thassarian drew away and moved over him again, this time with a much different intent.  Koltira wound long legs around his hips and closed his eyes, knowing what was coming and suddenly a bit nervous again.  “Relax,” Thassarian murmured, breath warm against his lips as he leaned down to kiss him softly.  “I won’t hurt you, Koltira.  I couldn’t ever do that.”

Koltira smiled and wound his arms around him.  “But you have,” he murmured, and those words had a whole layer of meaning to them that even he didn’t fully understand.  “I want you to,” he finally said, and then his breath was taken away again as Thassarian pushed forward, slowly and carefully.  He growled and dug his nails into the human’s back, body trembling finely at the intrusion.  It felt good, but it did hurt, and he’d expected that- welcomed it.  It was moments more until Thassarian was fully inside of him, and it was the strangest feeling, because Koltira could feel _everything-_ each beat of his heart, each ragged breath, the strong urge to move.

Thassarian remained still for another moment, kissing him deeply, before starting to answer his body’s demands- and Koltira’s, for that matter.  Koltira was utterly shameless, writhing beneath him, arching and moving with him in a way that threatened to break his control entirely.  “Koltira,” he breathed, lips seeking the high elf’s again.  “Koltira...”

He loved it, the way Thassarian said his name, the way he knew _he_ was the cause of that incredible pleasure.  Koltira kissed him back, holding tighter, moving his hips faster.  The friction against Thassarian’s stomach felt wonderful, the heat inside of him even better, and Koltira could imagine nowhere else in the world he would ever want to be than right here, right now.  “Thassarian,” he whispered, saying his lover’s name as though savoring the taste- and it earned him a shiver, a caress of lips against his jaw.  He smirked a bit, wondering what his next word would do.  “Faster!”

Thassarian was all too happy to oblige, giving over to the desire crackling in the air between them- what little of that there was, as every inch of skin that could be was pressed together.  He captured Koltira’s mouth in a rough, sloppy kiss, and Koltira gave as good as he got.  Nails raked down his back as Koltira became a wild thing beneath him, pushing him to limits he didn’t even know he had until he had to wrest himself from the edge.  “You first,” he growled, shifting and twisting ever so slightly until he hit something that earned him a keening cry from the elf beneath him.

Koltira was beyond the point of holding back, moans and half-formed sentences in Thalassian spilling from his lips, not making much sense to anyone but himself- and even that was a stretch.  He bucked beneath Thassarian, feeling his whole body tensing, tightening, the fire building... and then it all exploded outward, releasing with a burst of energy that tore another cry from his throat, this time shaped like his lover’s name.  Thassarian wasn’t far behind him, Koltira’s name like a prayer on his lips as he came, thrusting deeply and then stopping entirely.  All Koltira could hear was their ragged, uneven breathing, all he could feel was his heart pounding in his chest and Thassarian’s against his own... and that was all he wanted, at the moment.

He came back to himself then, jerking upright from where he’d been leaning against the tree.  Koltira’s eyes were wide and he was panting, though there was no obvious reason for it... and he lifted his hand to his chest, still covered with his breastplate, and felt the echo of the heartbeat he’d had before.  He sat that way for a long time before slumping back, staring up at the sky, feeling colder and more hollow than he had in a very long time... but that memory, he knew, would be one that would warm the farthest reaches of his heart.  He looked down at the statue again, feeling slightly bewildered, and closed his eyes.

Thassarian was watching him from the edge of the clearing, a small smile on his face.  “So now you know,” he whispered, not daring to approach him.  He didn’t want to shatter the remains of the dream, didn’t want to remind Koltira of their harsh reality.  They had the statue, at least, and he couldn’t see Koltira letting it out of his sight, perhaps not even removing it from his person, even in battle.  He figured there was a lot the former high elf wanted to say to him, but it could wait.  Death would come for neither of them, at least not for a little while, and what needed to be said could be said in that space between sleeping and waking, where they could capture happiness, if only for a brief moment.

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a good few years since I actually wrote 'fic, much less posted it anywhere. My best friend reminded me of these two the other day and I pulled my head out of another MMO long enough to remember how much I had loved them and their story, so I decided to try my hand at a quick drabble before trying something more lengthy. I vaguely remembered there being a place in Darkshore where you could find a little cat statue, for all the good it did at the time (spoiler alert: none), so decided to grab that and roll with it. I truly hope you enjoyed this story!


End file.
